“All right I shall be ready immediately,” said Hardy.
He arose from the bed and slipped into his clothes, the physician assisting him, for his wounded arm was wrapped in a sling and gave him some difficulty. Then, without a word, he followed Jack from the room.
Now, as Jack had sought the hospital he had noted some of the localities he had passed while being led along by his own captor, so that he had a pretty fair idea of the direction in which he wanted to go. The one thing that he feared was that Hardy would recognize him before they got out of the city.
He kept his hand on the revolver he had taken from the Danish officer, whose clothes he had appropriated, for he was determined that Hardy would either be taken back to the Sylph alive or stay in Denmark dead.
“He is too dangerous to be allowed to escape scot free,” the lad told himself. “Besides, Lord Hastings’ last words were to bring him back dead or alive. I don’t think much of the job, but I’ll do it if necessary.”
As they walked along the street, Hardy tried to strike up a conversation. Jack walked slightly ahead of him, to prevent him from getting a good look at his face.
“What does the king want with me, do you suppose?” Hardy asked.
“I don’t know,” replied Jack gruffly.
“How about the other prisoner? Where is he?”
“Oh, he’s safe enough,” was Jack’s answer.